


That Sublime Character

by KrisseyCrystal (AisukuriMuStudio)



Series: Femslash February 2019 (FE:A Edition) [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: F/F, Femslash, Femslash February 2019, Fluff, Romance, t h e y g h e y, the others are mentioned but that's pretty much it - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 15:07:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17685797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AisukuriMuStudio/pseuds/KrisseyCrystal
Summary: Tiki does not ever think she has seen Say’ri, a woman always so serious, so betrayed, and so burdened by leadership and war and loss, smile.





	That Sublime Character

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Femslash February everyone!! <3 It's been a while since I've posted fanfic of any kind because I've kind of hidden myself away while I've been laboring over an original novel project for these past several months. So here. Have part 1 of my contribution. 
> 
> (Guess what series my wife-to-be finally got me into..............................)

Say’ri has always been a little too serious. A little too severe, a little too grave. Tiki has known the ex-princess of Chon’sin for what feels like the blink of an eye, especially when compared to the long stretch of her years, but already--if she were to be honest with herself--she has grown fond of her. 

If only because the ex-princess is so easy to tease.

When Tiki feigns exhaustion at the end of a long battle and collapses, Say’ri’s panic is absolutely  _ hilarious. _

“M-my Lady! No! Alarm! Call forth a healer at once! The Voice is fallen!”

Tiki would have thought her fake snore was obvious. Robin or Anna would have called her bluff and dropped her to the earth instead of catching her as heroically and cradling her as protectively in her arms as Say’ri did. But still the swordswoman is baffled and mystified and instead of catching on to the obvious  _ joke  _ that’s here, she takes Tiki’s slurred mumble of, “Five more years…” for their literal meaning.

“Fie!” Say’ri says tightly, mouth pulled back into a grim wince. “I pray the war will be long since over by then…”

Say’ri mentions her ‘frail condition’ and well, Tiki won’t stand  _ that  _ misunderstanding.

It’s always a little painful, Tiki will admit, when the people from each generation she most yearns to connect with see her less and less as Tiki _,_ a manakete. More and more, they look to her and see only Tiki the Divine Voice. Tiki understands the responsibility of her role, of course. She understands the expectations and what people need to see and hear from her.

But surely she does not have to be the Divine Voice to everyone she knows. Surely there are those who she can take off that heavy cloak of divine duty for and just  _ be _ with. Be playful with, joke with, enjoy  _ life  _ and laughter and song with. 

Like she used to.

And perhaps the real joke is on her because somewhere in between her prank on Say’ri, the easily-forgotten promise to remain within Say’ri’s sight, and her solo venture into a recently saved village where a handful of extremely grateful villagers proceeded to gift the Voice with several of their finest apples, Tiki realizes that she most desperately wants to be able to do all of those things with Say’ri in particular.

Tiki is no stranger to love. She knows what the feeling is, identifies it, the instant she looks down at the basketful she has been given and thinks before all else,  _ Hm. I wonder if Say’ri likes apples?  _

_ How strange, _ is her next immediate, happy, and humming thought.  _ To not foresee such warm affection forming within myself. _

Say’ri finds Tiki before she’s even left the village, which is excellent because Tiki--still floating high on the gift-giving of fruit and the delightful revelation of love and  _ feelings  _ because isn’t this part of what makes such a long life worth living?--was looking for her, too. 

Except Say’ri is alarmed and angry and doesn’t want any apples because Tiki broke a promise. To be fair, Tiki forgot about said promise, but in doing so, she gave Say’ri quite a scare.

_ Oops, _ Tiki thinks.

And Tiki is no stranger to guilt either, but see, the good thing about being so familiar with the concept of guilt is that you learn not to let it sink its teeth into you. She has herself seen guilt force people into robbing themselves of so many simple reliefs and courtesies in life.

So she turns and--what is it called in this day and age?--blows a raspberry at Say’ri. In the middle of the swordswoman’s lecture.

Say’ri is mortified.

Which is also absolutely hilarious.

“My Lady, I have no words. You are acting as a child!” Say’ri’s voice is harsh; the shadow across her face severe. “What would the people think if they saw you thus?”

And therein lies the rub:  because even as Tiki has already identified that she is so, so fond of Say’ri, Say’ri still only sees her as this Holy Figure that Must Be Protected. 

She does not see Tiki. 

She sees only the Voice.

Tiki huffs. “Like I am, you mean? I care not! Let them think what they will.”

“The Voice is a rarefied and exalted being, sacred unto all,” Say’ri says--like these are things Tiki does not know already. Bah! “I fear dwelling amongst us lowly mortals is corrupting that sublime character.”

“That’s preposterous!” What is this woman saying? Tiki shakes her head and the long, thick tail of her hair swings. “If my sublimeness precludes me from being around humans, I say:  good riddance!”

Say’ri stops. 

There’s a flicker of  _ something _ there across her face. Tiki’s chest fills with hope.

“My Lady…”

“Do you want an apple or not?”

Eventually, Tiki must silence Say’ri with hand-feeding her one of the many gifted apples--an act which Say’ri is again,  _ mortified _ , with and calls a ‘vulgar display’--and  _ that _ , in the end, is what makes Tiki burst hard into laughter. 

She laughs right there on the edge of the village, for all to see her, with her basket tilted on her hip and the many apples she’s been given spilling to the dirt:  Tiki the Divine Voice of Naga, the ancient manakete, friend of Marth, and sleeper of over a thousand years. 

She laughs and laughs because  _ oh my little candle-life Say’ri, you think  _ that  _ is vulgar?  _

Say’ri doesn’t laugh, of course, but her face is very, very red. She takes the apple that has been propped into her mouth and chews it slowly.

And it occurs to Tiki, long after the bubbling amusement has finally faded away from within herself, that there’s something she hasn’t noticed. It is subtle and perhaps not everyone looks for it, but for someone who loves to joke and play and laugh so very much--

\--Tiki does not ever think she has seen Say’ri, a woman always so serious, so betrayed, and so burdened by leadership and war and loss, smile.

Then, they kill Yen’fay.

And Tiki does not think she will ever see her Say’ri smile now.

The swordswoman draws into herself with a silence and a grief that is so, so heavy. Tiki never leaves her side now, but less so with the intention of keeping any silly promise of letting Say’ri protect her. It is to watch this woman who has become so important to her, this young lady who has lost so much--and perhaps, if need be, to protect Say’ri from herself. 

Tiki is no stranger to loss.

They talk often because Tiki is afraid of the silence. Because her serious and grave Say’ri is so... _ traditional _ and  _ reserved _ and Tiki loves this but knows in the same breath that means Say’ri thinks it ill-fitting to burden others with her grief. She knows that Say’ri will bottle things in and in until this war is finished and even then, continue to carry it with her because she thinks  _ that  _ is her sentence for taking her brother’s life.

“‘Twould be false to say the sadness does not haunt me,” Say’ri finally does confess in the quiet of her tent late one night. She sits in the middle of her bedroll, one knee pulled up to her chin. “But my brother met the end he himself chose. I’ve come to accept it as unavoidable. What’s done is done.”

And Tiki, sitting across from her on the one chair--the one piece of furniture in Say’ri’s tent because of course Say’ri could not permit the Voice to sit on the floor--does not hesitate when she says, “Liar."

Say’ri’s eyes dart up to her, shock and pain in the depths of her dark eyes. “M-my Lady?”

_ You’re a liar, Say’ri,  _ Tiki wants to say, the frown firm on her mouth.  _ You’re a liar to yourself. To your people. To this army. To Prince Chrom and Robin. You’re a liar to  _ me _ because after all this time worrying if you would really see  _ me _ as I am _ ,  _ I’ve never noticed how you never let me see  _ you,  _ either. _

Instead, Tiki slips down from the chair. She kneels to the ground right in front of the swordswoman, barely touching Say’ri’s bedroll and oh, Say’ri looks mortified already. Her hand raises; she looks as if she’s about to rise and usher Tiki back to her perch.

But Tiki touches her face and Say’ri stops moving entirely.

“Lay down your stoic mask,” Tiki whispers. Her pale, thin fingers drift down alongside the curve of Say’ri’s cheek as it bends gracefully into a strong jaw. “I know the pain tears at you still. If you are in pain, tell me that you hurt. Let me  _ in,  _ Say’ri.”

Say’ri swallows. Once again, there is the flicker of  _ something  _ there in those dark, midnight eyes. “What would you have me say?” she asks.

“Not that what’s done is done. Not that you can  _ forget  _ so easily.” Tiki is no stranger to brothers. She doesn’t believe the lies that Say’ri has come to terms with such a violent loss for one moment; do not think her so foolish as that. 

But Say’ri says nothing and so Tiki strikes harder, deeper. “Was your bond so feeble that a few weeks marching might erase him from your heart?”

“Enough!” 

Say’ri smacks Tiki’s hand away.

“What could you  _ possibly  _ ken of the bond I shared with him?” Say’ri hisses and there-- _ there _ \--that flicker of  _ something _ \--therein lies the truth. Tiki can see it now:  the shimmer in her eyes, right around the lower rim, where the tears start to swell. “Forget?” the ex-princess repeats, choking on the word as if it’s unfathomable. And it is, Tiki knows it is, but  _ that  _ is why she said it. “Erase him from my heart? ‘Twould be easier to erase the heart entire!”

_ But is that not what’s happened?  _ Tiki wonders as brings her hand back to her own lap.  _ He was your brother. Has not  _ something  _ happened to your heart?  _

TIki apologizes later, in the soft silence afterward as Say’ri’s tears first start to fall. She is the cause of the other woman’s distress. She knows this and yes, though she is relieved to finally see Say’ri’s awful grief for herself, she confesses how much she wanted to hear everything:  the contents of Say’ri’s heart, to hear her speak frankly for  _ once  _ in her  _ life _ .

“I wanted you to tell me everything, Say’ri,” Tiki whispers.

“But why?” Say’ri’s voice is hoarse and rough. It is raw and Tiki has never been so grateful to hear such a thing. “Why me?”

And here--here is where the two roads diverge. 

Here, Tiki could say how she’s wanted to be Say’ri’s friend for so long. They could end this conversation as simply as possible, but still happy and content and good--closer than before, but not as close as Tiki would wish. 

Or Tiki could confess...more.

And who knows? In this wild adventure of criss-crossing timelines in the hope of changing destiny and a patchwork army comprised of people from all sorts of different routes of fate--maybe there is one such path out there where this conversation ends with them as just that and nothing more:  friends.

“Because I love you.”

But Tiki is no stranger to courage.

“Long have you stood at my side, Say’ri,” she adds, soft and true. “Always faithfully. Always bravely. You care so deeply for everyone who you have ever taken in under your protection:  your people, the rebels in Valm. Me. It is little wonder I think you are such a beautiful person when I have seen the amazing things you have done...how strong you are to fight on even after all you have lost.”

_ Isn’t it funny?  _ she wants to say.  _ The true sublime character in this story isn’t really me at all. _

Say’ri sniffs. Her knee slips down and her legs cross before her. “You think me beautiful…?” she asks quietly and Tiki thinks it amazing how Say’ri looks her in the eyes, now. How there is little hesitation in that searching glance as if to see what Tiki says is true. 

Whatever she finds in Tiki’s face must answer her questions because immediately, new pain tightens her brow. 

“What’s wrong? Does it bother you?”

“No.” Say’ri shakes her head quickly and swallows. “It’s just...I know the grief and sorrow still heavy inside myself after what happened with Yen’fay. I fear my lifetime is but a few short days compared to yours, my Lady. Would…” The swordswoman looks down at her lap, where both of her worn fighter’s hands are curled to the sky as if offering the sustenance of her life in prayer. “...even then, would you still have me? Knowing that I cannot stay for long?”

Tiki smiles. She slides her hands over the both of Say’ri’s and clasps them whole.

“Without a moment’s hesitation,” Tiki murmurs. “I am used to loss, Say’ri. Do not deprive me from the joy of ever _ having _ .” 

“...as my lady wishes, then,” Say’ri says. The smile upon her face--soft, small, and crooked from tears, but  _ real _ \--is the most beautiful thing Tiki has ever seen. “Flighty, heedless, and exasperating as you may sometimes be…I like you a great deal as well.”

Tiki leans in and up and places a small, tender kiss above her swordswoman’s brow. “Thank you, Say’ri.”

**Author's Note:**

> pssst also did u kno that's one of my favorite lines in the whole game??? the whole: "I am used to loss, Say’ri. Do not deprive me from the joy of ever HAVING."
> 
> i'm still so convinced their original dialogue is a love confession....................


End file.
